


Ties

by gh0st1nn1t



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: DadSchlatt, Dream Smp, EXCEPT THE FESTIVAL GOES DIFFERNENTLY BECAUSE FUCK U LET THEM BE HAPPY, Family Bonding, Father Figures, Festivals, Gen, Good Jschlatt (Video Blogging RPF), Healthy Relationships, I listened to bo burnham while writing this pog, Jschlatt-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Manberg Festival on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), Mild Hurt/Comfort, Parent Jschlatt (Video Blogging RPF), Pre-Festival, Tags Are Hard, Toby Smith | Tubbo Needs a Hug, Toby Smith | Tubbo-centric, and he gets one :), pog - Freeform, very mild
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-12 16:35:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28638615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gh0st1nn1t/pseuds/gh0st1nn1t
Summary: Tubbo failed to learn how to tie a tie, so he requests help from his dad and learns a few things.[Fluffy Dad!Schlatt one shot]
Relationships: AS IN FATHER AND SON, Jschlatt & Toby Smith | Tubbo, None, This Is Platonic You Fuckers, u weird fucks
Comments: 10
Kudos: 291





	Ties

**Author's Note:**

> AY MOTHERFUCKERS IM HYPED BC IM GETTING PAID TO HELP MY BROTHER WITH HIS WORK SO IM FUCKIN RICH NOW BRO I GOT £20 AYYYYY IM GETTING BOBA TOMORROW HAHA FUCK YALL IM ON A WRITING SPREE
> 
> anywayyyysssss this was written using a prompt from Emberontheashes517 so go check them out!!! without their prompt this fic wouldnt exist haha

Tubbo never liked asking for help, only requesting assistance when it was completely necessary, and he deemed going on stage in front of the entire country a fairly important thing. 

With a shaky hand, he rapped his knuckles against the hard wooden door, inhaling and exhaling slowly. He didn’t know why he was so nervous, for fucks sake, it was his father! They’d only reunited months ago, the last time he’d seen his father before that was when he was 5, Tubbo rationalized inside of his mind, he was allowed to be anxious. Surely he’d help him, there was no reason to be worried, he reminded himself. 

“Come in!” 

He opened the door, the handle colder than he remembered. The first thing he noticed in the large office-like room was his Dad sat at his desk, a surprising amount of paperwork piled in front of him. 

“Uh, hi, Dad, I need your help,” Tubbo spoke quietly, his voice barely audible to the man across the room. He fiddled with his hands, wringing them and fumbling with the hem of his shirt.

Schlatt didn’t get to look up from his paperwork, twisting the golden fountain pen in his hands skilfully, the nervous habit becoming instinct. “Hm? What’s wrong, kid?” He asked, eyes focused on the sea of sentences on the pages in front of him. Honestly, he scolded himself for not realizing how much paperwork came with hosting an anniversary celebration. After the silence that followed his question, he glanced up, “You’re not dressed? Tubbo, we’re due on stage in twenty minutes!” 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know how to tie my tie!” Tubbo began fidgeting more, not wanting to look up and meet his father's eyes. He felt a comforting hand place itself on his shoulder, and he glanced upwards. 

Schlatt was smiling faintly, his eyes softer than he’d ever admitted, clasping his son’s shoulder. “I’m not mad, kid, calm down, c’mon,” he gave his son a side hug. He knew things were still tense after Tubbo discovered the president he worked under was actually his father, and he’d accepted that it would be like that for a while, but he still tried to tiptoe around what he said and did in front of his kid. He led Tubbo across the room, a mirror bordered by gold hanging in the corner. “Look, you still got your tie, right?” 

Tubbo handed the red fabric over silently. 

“Hey, Tubs, you don’t need to be nervous, here, I’ll teach you,” he draped the fabric beneath the collar of his son's shirt, brushing the dirt off of his shoulders. “Copy me,” He undid his tie quickly, leaving it as one strip of cloth contrasting brightly against his grey shirt, crossing the wider end over the thinner end, waiting for his son to copy him. “How you feelin’? You nervous about the celebrations?” 

“A little, yeah,” Tubbo admitted, copying his father's movements as he wrapped the wider end back around the thinner end, the tips of his fingers white from how hard he grasped the fabric. 

Schlatt smiled sympathetically, “I know how you feel. Y’know, when I had my first real speech, I couldn’t tie my tie either, my hands were shaking too bad. I ended up having to put on one of those dumbass clip-on ties,” he remarked with a grin, pulling the end of the wider side back up through the loop so it was just below his jaw. He watched with pride as his son copied him exactly.

“There are clip on ties? I could’ve worn one of those?” Tubbo joked, imitating Schlatt’s tutorial with the soft red fabric. He heard a soft chuckle from his father in response. There was a moment of silence before Tubbo spoke up, voice trembling, “Hey, Dad? I- I don’t think I want to do a speech today. People don’t- they don’t listen anyway, and there’s not really a point of a speech and-”

“Kid, breathe,” Schlatt interrupted his speedy rambling, letting the tie hang limply for him to place his hands on his son's shoulders, “Listen, the more underestimated you are, the more opportunity you have to impress. When I was a kid, all my teachers said I’d fail, I’d end up unemployed for my whole life, but hey, look at me now! President of Manberg with my son by my side,” he gave Tubbo an encouraging grin, but he kept staring at the ground, unresponsive. Schlatt’s shoulders slumped, but he was determined to help his son, he was _not_ going to give up, not again.

He led Tubbo over to the windowsill, gently pushing him down to sit on the window seat, speaking quietly, “I know they underestimate you, kid, and I’m sorry, really, I wish I could do something about that. But hey, prove ‘em all wrong, right? Go out there and kill that speech, fuckin’ kill it, kid. And hey, if you nail that tie, then you can rock up looking sophisticated too. You can do it kid, promise. You can prove 'em all wrong.”

“Yeah,” Tubbo nodded slowly, voice shaky, glancing up to meet his fathers’ eyes. A single tear slipped from his eye, and Schlatt was quick to wipe it away carefully with his thumb, “Yeah, I can, I can do it,” he nodded, getting to his feet and brushing off his shirt, beginning to twist the red fabric of his tie around in his hands as he spoke, “Sorry about that, I overreacted and-”

Schlatt got to his feet too, gently stopping Tubbo from wrinkling his tie, “Kid, calm down, it’s fine, you’re allowed to get upset. Now c’mon, let’s get that tie done, yeah?” 

Tubbo smiled up at him, nodding, “Yeah. I think I got most of it,” he twisted the fabric around until he was almost done, letting Schlatt help him with the final knot, tightening the tie and standing back, smiling at his son with pride. Tubbo beamed back. 

“There you go, kid. You ready to go?”


End file.
